It's a lonely walk down Desperation Street. In the shadow of the street lights, flesh pistons move in rhythm, and police sirens flash red and white. Shrug your jacket collar high, and let your hands be ready to get busy, stand tall, keep your eyes darting side to side. Glass shatters around the corner, voices rage then fade away, you never feel more alive then when death greets for your final day. Cigarette embers stare from the darkness, a plume of smoke lingers. Never slow down, never look back.